


The game

by Kekgirl21



Category: Feud (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kekgirl21/pseuds/Kekgirl21
Summary: This is pretty much a stolen idea but hehehehhehe
Relationships: Joan Crawford/Bette Davis
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	The game

Three cigarettes, resting crumbled in an ashtray. Bette was regretting this already. She shifted uncomfortably on the clean soft seat, watching the smoke rise between the three people. 

She had not intended to end up here, when she had stepped out of the car and entered the party, she had not intended to be practically forced into the big black car and she had most definitely not intended to have fun.

Franchot Tone had been her flame for years, and while Joan married the man who had absolutely no interest in her, she had no feelings for him now, as he slightly spilled the three drinks now. 

„One for the lady.“, he gave Joan the sticky glass, who wiped it With a cotton cloth. Even drunk out of her mind she still minded, her smile intended to be polite, was slightly crooked. Bette watched, as the handsome man took a seat next to his wife, reaching over the table to hand her the delicate glass. 

„Thank you.“, she looked at the couple with slightly hooded eyes. The drink was making her dizzy. 

When she had spotted the pair at the party she had intended to run, to hide or to fight, but when Joan pulled her in a close hug, whispering „bless you Bette.“, into her hair, the hatred seemed to magically disappear. 

They had danced until late, laughed hard and loud and probably embarrassed the whole party, Bette practically dropping of her chair and Franchot carrying her bridal style to his car. She hadn’t mined his arms around her but somehow the sparks had left her. 

The music was perfect for dancing and when the dark haired man was exhausted fro, dancing with Joan, she had pulled Bette from her chair and the two women jumped around the dancefloor like children. Bette knew she would regret this tomorrow, the press would probably be atrocious, but her judgment was clouded at this point. 

Joan put her head in her neck laughing. 

„I’m so drunk.“, she giggled. It was obvious. 

She pushed off her shoes, poking her husband with her foot, who had rested his head on his hand. 

„Let’s Play a Game.“, she giggled again. Bette watched the exchange with wide eyes. The man got up, snickering now. 

„What game do you want to play Joanie?“, he asked, danger in his voice now. „Out board game?“, he winked into the room. „Would you like to play the board game Bette?“

„No.“, Joans head snapped up, her blue eyes darting to her guest, but Bette against her will, slid down onto the floor, smiling. „Let’s Play.“, she emptied her glass, raising it in a toast. 

„Yes let’s play.“, the man grabbed an old box from a shelf. It was a nice box, grey and red, an old board game. Joan shook her head. „No.“, she pursued her lips. 

Bette wondered what her problem was. It was just a board game. „Come on Joan.“, she held out her hand. It was a wonder, she had resented the woman seven hours again and now she wanted her to sit next to her and play a silly game. 

The candles in the room flickered and Joan pushend herself of the sofa, sighing deeply. 

„Good Girl.“, Franchot got the game out, not seeing Joan blush. „Isn’t she being a good girl?“, he asked Bette, who nodded. 

Joan took the red stone, Bette the blue one, Franchot was contend with the green one and he gave out a dice for every player. 

„Now.“, he looked into the round, as if telling a secret. „We shall review the rules again.“ 

Bette was confused. The rules were quite clear. Roll the dice, if you got to the end of the board you won. Then she noticed some drawings on the board. With clumsy hands drawn onto the little stones, a few different symbols stood out. A shoe, a heart. A star.

„The rules.“, the man explained further,“are quite simple, are they not?“, he smiled at Joan who groaned in response. 

„If you Land on a shoe, you have to take of a piece of clothing.“, he giggled, like a schoolboy. Bette blushed. Oh. Her brain chimed In, telling her that this was maybe not the best idea. But the thoughts passed by like a cloud and she leaned forward. 

„If you have to land on a heart.“, Franchot continued,“you have to kiss someone.“

Joan rolled her eyed. „Do we really have to“, she looked at Bette, who smiled bald at her. „If it’s the rules...“, the blonde laughed. She would not mind kissing Franchot. 

„Now this is where it gets complicated. If you have landed on the field by an even number, you get to kiss a man of your choice.“, the handsome man pointed to himself. „If you had an uneven number, you have to kiss a pretty lady.“, he winked. 

„What if you land on it. You can’t kiss yourself right?“, Bette wondered out loud. 

„I can very well kiss myself.“, he pushed the board into the middle between them. 

„What happens when you land on a star.“, Bette Heard herself asking. 

„You got to answer a question.“, franchot winked. „ and you have to promise to be truthful.“, he held up his pinky. „Promise?“

Bette reached across her hair fell into her eyes. „Promise.“, she manages to get out. 

Joan taxed her with her eyes. „Honey Bettes glass is empty,“ she pushed franchot up. „Get her another drink please.“

While the man stumbled out of the room, she leaned towards the woman. „If you don’t want to do this Bette, it’s oki.“, she husked, so close to the blonde. Bette studied her face. It was beautiful, so defined, with these big round eyes, that blinked at her. 

She wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore. So she just smiled and nodded and leaned back, waiting for the man to get back. 

„Alright ladies.“, he handed Bette her drink, sliding down again. 

Bette threw the dice first. 6. a regular field. Joan was next, landing on a star, trying her hardest not to look to bothered by it. 

„A question!“, franchot seemed excited. „Bette you ask!“, he tried to wink again. „But make it exciting.“

Bette didn’t think about it, she just let her mouth form words. „Whos the best kisser in Hollywood?“, she meant co star but forgot to mention. 

Franchot raised an eyebrow . „Be honest now joanie.“

Joan looked into her glass. „I don’t....“, she stared but cut herself off.

Taking the dice she threw it at her husband. „Happy now?“, her smile came back. „Not you, That much us clear.“ her husband pretended to be offended. 

Joan blushed. „You know who it is.“ 

The man shook his head. „No tell us joanie. Who did it the best.“ 

It was silent for a moment and Bette got scared Joan would just vanish I to thin air, than the slim woman took a deep breath. „Alright alright, it is missy now please it’s your turn.“

Her husband seemed pleased and Bette didnt question the answer at first, then when franchot landed on a heart, leaning in for a kiss towards Joan. They touched lips very shortly and Joan pulled back. „See?“, somehow her mood had changed from tired and annoyed to giddy and smiling. How she changed so quickly was a riddle to Bette but the blonde grinned back. 

Somehow the smeared lipstick drew her eyes towards the brunettes lips and she had to tear her eyes away, as she took her dice. A three. That meant taking off a piece of clothing. She decided on her cardigan, throwing it onto the sofa behind her. That was alright, the next item would be more tricky. She supposed her stockings were the next best things. 

Joan landed on the same heart as Franchot. „What’s Your number?“, Bette asked her, she could not see the dice. „It’s a 3.“

„I“, she looked at Bette suddenly slightly nervous. 

„Joanie you know the rules. Kiss the pretty lady.“

The questioning In Joans eyes made Bette nod. 

Bette leaned forward, expecting a kiss on the cheek, but suddenly lips pressed I to hers, Joans long fingers grabbing her head. She pulled away almost immediately and Bette opened her eyes in shock. Her lips tingled. She stared at the brunette. 

„Now that was not a real kiss.“, franchot laughed, throwing his dice and taking of his shoes. 

Bette rolled again. Kiss. Even number. 

„Not let me show you how to do it Joan.“ he pulled Bette in. The lips that met hers were rough. The difference now so noticeable, as Franchot grabbed her and moved his lips against hers. A few months ago this would have meant the world to Bette and she had dreamed about this for weeks at a time, but now that it did happen she missed the softness she had felt earlier. 

„You know that two women could never kiss like that.“, The man explained, while Bette forced herself not to wipe her mouth. 

„Bullshit.“, Joan whispered under her breath. 

When Joan landed on the next field she stood up on her slightly trembling legs. The fingers raised her skirt, long legs exposing. She fumbled with her clasps. Not being able to get the stocking loose. Bette scooted forward. Her actions were now not accountable.

„Let me help you.“ she loosened the thin silky fabric, as Joan watched her, kneeling before her. Sliding down the silk, Bette felt the warm of Joans legs under her hands. The muscles twitched slightly, as she bent and undid the other stocking. 

„Thank you.“, Joan murmured, when they both sat down again. 

Franchot was watching them closely, his drink almost empty. 

He landed, kissed his own hand and leaned back, closing his eyes slightly. 

Bette landed on a question. „I’ll ask.“, the man pretended to think about it Long and hard, then shooting: „have you ever been attracted to a woman.“

Bette was taken aback. Had she? She never thought about it. Then again, the tingle in her body was not deniable, she still felt Joans legs under her hands, her lips on her lips. 

She blushed, nodded and took the dice. „Today’s your lucky day Joan.“, the man took a good look at his wife, with something Bette just could not place. 

Kiss. Uneven. Joan looked at franchot. „So two women can’t kiss?“, he shook his head. „I’ll show you.“, Joan pushend herself off the floor, sliding next to Bette. Bette felt her body heat, and her heart stared to race. What was this feeling, why was she so excited for a kiss?

Joan took her head in her hands, coming closer. She left her enough time to opt out, but Bette didn’t want to. Their lips met, Joan parting hers almost immediately and Bette almost groaned. The woman pulled her closer, as she kissed her deeper, her hands now in her hair and Bette pressed herself into the kiss, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling, Joan now digging her nails into Bettes shoulder. It would probably leave a mark but it drove Bette crazy. 

When they parted, they both were panting hard. They smiled, both flushed. 

When they turned, franchot had sunk onto himself. Fallen asleep. Joan chuckled deep and low. She got up, helping the man onto the sofa. Turning around to find a blanket. Bette somehow felt a different kind of drunk. The dizzy feeling had left her and had been replaced by a focus on Joans movement around the room. 

„Let’s go upstairs.“, the woman took her hand and pulled her out of the room, leaving the sleeping Tone behind. Maybe Bette didn’t regret going....


End file.
